House of the Rising Sunflower

by kudzuhaiku


Fillydelphia

Golden rays of dawn reflected in Wort's eyes as the colt peered up at his mother with his lip all a-tremble. Though he looked away, Sundance was keenly aware of the moment, and recalled all too well how upset he would get when his own mother would depart for work. Every day it was the same old business, and he would try to make her stay. The fear that she might never return home from her shift never fully went away, and stayed with him even now. Wort was no different; he wanted his mother to stay so that he could keep an eye on her. 

"Are you going to bring me home a daddy?" the mournful colt asked of his mother. 

"No Wort," she replied with obvious patience and good grace. "Not this time." 

"Well"—the colt did his best to appear hopeful—"what about a brother or a sister? Can you bring one of those home?" 

"Wort… sweetie… it doesn't work that way. That's not how brothers and sisters happen." 

In a rare moment of youthful triumph, where the young utterly destroy the social order and turn everything around them topsy-turvy, little Wort raised his foreleg, blinked once, blinked a second time as he mulled over whatever was going through his mind, and then with a slow and deliberate motion, he pointed right at Sundance. Then, he stabbed his hoof in Sundance's direction multiple times as if to emphasise his point. 

Defeated as she was by her own son, Hoppy's expression turned deadpan. 

"Oh… Worty… what will Mama do with you?" 

"This is clearly my fault," Sundance said. 

"Yeah"—Hoppy nodded her head in agreement—"this is entirely your fault." Then, to her son, she said, "Wort… just pick a brother or sister. There's plenty of them running around." 

"No," the colt shook his head from side to side. "Not the same." 

"Bye, Wort." Still deadpan in both voice and expression, Hoppy waved at her son. 

"Come back with something," Wort said to his mother, almost pleading. 

"And not something that takes a shot to clear up, so help me—" 

"Granny!" With a stomp of her hoof, Hoppy silenced Grandmother Growler mid-sentence. 

When Sundance chuckled, Hoppy shot him a malevolent glare full of promise. 

"So I sowed my wild oats a bit," Hoppy muttered beneath her breath. "I grew up and got responsible. I settled down and raised my son." 

"Congratulations," Grandmother Growler said to her daughter while she waved her left talons all about. "You did what normal creatures do when faced with responsibility. Do you need a trophy? A cake maybe? A celebratory commemoration for the time you sacrificed yourself for the good of your son?" 

Wearing a terrific scowl, Hoppy shook her head and replied, "No." 

It was time to go, and Sundance knew it. To that end, he waved his wing. Then, with a smile, he turned about to face Gerard, who wasn't quite awake just yet. "You… when you circle, keep my barony safe." 

"It's a vulture thing," Gerard said in a low whisper, offering up an excuse when none were needed. 

"I don't mind if you do it. Just keep us safe. I'm trusting you." 

"Thank you, Sundance." 

"And you, Pluck—" 

"While you're gone, you're putting me in charge?" the eager earth pony colt asked. 

"Nope." Wearing a broad grin, Sundance lowered his head until he was eye-level with the expectant colt. "Pluck… I have a very important job for you that I want you to—" 

"What is it?" the one-eyed colt demanded. 

"I want you to keep an eye out for trouble." 

With a wheeze and a gasp, Silent Thunder collapsed into the dewy grass and began to roll around, his whole body trembling with mute mirth. Pluck rolled his eye, bit his lip, and then tried to kick his pegasus companion, but missed. Gerard laughed, but this turned into a yawn. It took a few seconds, but Hoppy began to chortle, and Grandmother Growler stared sightlessly in Sundance's general direction. 

"Yer a funny guy, Sundance." The earth pony colt's tone suggested that he was not amused.

"Yeah, Pluck. I know. I'm a hoot." 

"Keep laughing, feather-brain," Pluck said to Silent Thunder, who still rolled in the grass. 

"We'd best be going," Sundance suggested. "There's a lot to do today." 


A red line races eastward, towards the coast of Equestria…


 

Fillydelphia was a wound that stretched in all directions. Even from his lofty height, Sundance had trouble seeing all of it. For the first time, he began to understand the doomsayer's claims that Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and Baltimare might all become one megacity. This was only the outskirts—the heart of the city was still a tiny representation of itself off in the distance. No ocean was visible yet, just endless sprawl. 

"Incoming!" Hoppy shouted. 

Hearing the warning, Sundance slowed a bit and scanned the skies. A pair of armored guards approached at incredible speeds—truly terrific speeds—and Sundance could not help but envy them. They did not wear golden armor, no. These two wore combat armor with a dull matte-black finish that seemed to swallow light. It was sleek, modern, and somewhat terrifying. Their helmets had mirrored visors that completely hid their faces. They looked less like ponies and more like… something else. Perhaps something mechanical. 

Maybe that was the point. 

"State your destination," one shouted with an amplified voice that blasted from a public address loudspeaker mounted to his armor. 

"Jersey City," Hoppy hollered in response. 

"Central Fillydelphia is closed until further notice. Proceed north. If you attempt to enter the city proper, you will be arrested and detained. Your cart will be confiscated indefinitely. Do you understand?" 

"We understand," Hoppy replied. 

"Thank you for obeying the no-fly order. Go about your business, citizen." The black-clad pegasus gestured northward. 

When she spoke, Hoppy's voice was curiously defiant: "I'm a citizen, but this is Lord Sundance, of Sunfire Barony. Have some respect, grunt!" 

One of the pegasus ponies lifted up his mirrored visor, squinted at Sundance, and then looked back at the sky truck. "Typically, the lord is hauled about by his peasants. This is… odd." 

"I work for a living," Sundance said as his guts churned from his anxiousness. 

"Well, your Lordship, feel free to go north. Do not approach Central Fillydelphia. Princess Celestia would be mightily inconvenienced if she had to come and bail you out. We'll send word ahead. Being a lord and all, we trust that you'll behave. Ma'am, you've done your lord a service." He lowered his visor, which clicked into place, and then gestured with his foreleg. "Move along." 


 

"What is all of this?" Sundance shouted back to his passenger. 

"Farms," was Hoppy's terse response. 

Farms? All Sundance saw was concrete, steel, and brick. There wasn't a single speck of green. Not one shrub, not one tree, not even a blade of grass. The air was thick with a redolent, pungent reek that made him long for the delightful stench he had back home. He looked everywhere, but he couldn't see a farm. No meadows, no pastures as far as the eye could see. Just massive buildings—truly huge buildings that were as long as a skyscraper was tall. 

"I don't see any farms," Sundance said over the wind. "I mean, I'm not a farmer, but I own farms. They're very pretty." 

"Factory farms, silly. Jersey City is the heart of Equestria's dairy industry. All those buildings down below, they house cows. Tens of thousands of them… sometimes all in just one factory. And they—" 

"But what do they eat?" Sundance demanded, disturbed. "I have cows back home. They need to graze!"
 
"These cows live in tiny stalls, which they never leave. They're fed cow-pellets, so they don't need to graze. They spend all their lives being milked, and when they get old and die, they get turned into pet food and the leather is sold to the military or something, so I've heard." 

"But… cows talk.

"Business is business. The military doesn't care where its leather comes from, I'm sure." 

"But… the cows… they talk. They have feelings." 

"Yeah, I feel bad for them, but what can you do? Ponies love cheese. And milk. Oh, and butter. And ice cream. There's something like fifty million ponies on the east coast. Maybe more. I don't even know. All of them wanted milk and milk byproducts. Something had to be done. The solution was factory farming." 

"This is disgusting!" he shouted. 

"You never found out where your food came from?" she asked. 

Defeated, Sundance wasn't sure how to respond. He'd always just assumed that food was there on the grocery store shelves, or in the freezer at the corner bodega. It was just something that he took for granted, and he never thought too much about the source. But looking down, and seeing the source, he felt sick to his stomach. His eyes burned from the searing hot sewage vapours that wafted upwards. 

"There's millions and millions of cows in Jersey City," Hoppy said. "More cows than ponies. We built a city to house cows, and this is the city we built." 

Down below, construction workers worked on a canal, which wound its way between the factories. In another canal a few factories over, a herd of cows was being transported on a barge. Everything was a grid of canals and long buildings, along with a few narrow streets. So many canals, and they were all so crowded in some areas as goods were moved from place to place. 

"All these canals… I heard that there's plans to build a canal that stretches all the way up to Manehattan. It's probably a rumour, but it might be true. I mean, they could just use the ocean, but canals are probably safer. Fillydelphia is the city of canals. They're the arteries that pump the lifeblood of industry. An earth pony can only haul so much in a wagon, and a wagon can only hold so much of a load. But a team of earth ponies can haul literal tons and tons of goods on a barge in a canal. There's a sort of gross beauty to it all. I didn't want this for Wort." 

Painted on the roof of one of the factories, Sundance saw a chicken and an egg. It had to be as long as a high-rise apartment building. A canal actually flowed into the southern end of the building, and as Sundance flew overhead, a barge emerged from this entrance, no doubt loaded down with eggs. A pony that loved eggs, he now felt more than a little queasy, and as soon as he got home, he was going to hug his hens. 

Was this the cost of prosperity and growth? 

The horror that this was considered farmland numbed him. 

"Veer west a bit. I can see the shipyard from here, and the greenhouse supplier isn't too far off. There's a bank, too. A farmer's bank. We'll need to make a few stops. We can use the shipyard's runway, they won't mind. Well, they might mind, but if they give you any lip, I'll geld them. We call it the Jersey Jerk. Nothing like a good tug on the testicles to give a pony an attitude adjustment." 

Overwhelmed by everything, Sundance couldn't wait to return home. 


 

The shipyard piqued Sundance's interest, and distracted him somewhat from the horrors around him. They'd landed in the salvage section, where old hulks were scrapped. It was an immense facility—and had to be because airships tended to be quite large. A row of wooden ships in various states of decrepit disrepair stood like silent sentinels at the far end of the runway. A perfectly round spherical ship sat atop a bed of sandbags to keep it from rolling around. It's glass window in the front made it look like some sort of cyclopean eye. 

However interesting the derelict hulks might be, the stench here was abominable. 

They were only on the ground for mere moments, and already a pony approached. Tall, lean of body, but broad and wide of leg, with a neck like a keg, the earth pony that trotted over was quite a sight. He was so greasy, so sooty, and so filthy that it was impossible to determine what colour he was. His mane was a clumped, clotted tangle of filth, and when Sundance caught a whiff of him, he was shocked to discover that something smelled worse than the factory farms all around him. 

"Goldshoe! Stay back! You smell positively wretched! What have you been doing?" Hoppy lept out of the sky truck, landed, and then immediately began to retreat. "I mean it, Goldshoe! Back! Back or it's the zapper! I'll give you the cattle prod setting!" 

"Heyas, Hoppy. How's life?" The disgustingly dirty earth pony drew closer, sniffed, then halted. "I can't smell nuttin'. Been cleaning out the septic system of a ship we just got in. The water reclaimer is fried and the whole system is backed up in shit." 

The feculent funk smacked Sundance in the face and left him woozy. 

"Been a while, Hoppy. Ain't seen ya around." 

There was no smile to be seen on Hoppy's face when she said, "I did what's best for my son. I've settled down. Found a place to live that isn't open sky." 

"So you've come down from the clouds, eh, Hoppy?" Goldshoe's smile was like a picket fence missing most of its boards. 

"Goldshoe… what did you do? Crawl into the pipe and push everything out the pooper?" 

"Yeah, I did. I crawled into the pipe, I braced myself, and then I pushed with all my strength. Farted a few times from the strain. Mighta sharted. Not like it matters. When I got done, I had a thirty-six foot log of brick-hard feces shoved out the poop chute. I'm proud of what I did." 

"Goldshoe… gross… just… gross." 

Though it was wholly inappropriate, Sundance hoped this wasn't Wort's father. 

"Sundance, this is Bucklebad Goldshoe." She took a step closer, sniffled, and then wiped her watery eyes with her foreleg. "Goldshoe, this is Lord Sundance, of the Sunfire Barony." 

"Aw, shit, I stink of shit in front of a fancy lord." Goldshoe's smile grew ever wider, revealing more empty spaces where teeth once lived, but had long since moved out, no doubt in search of something better. "Pleased to meetcha. Welcome to Jersey City." 

"The pleasure is mine," Sundance said, remembering well the manners his grandmother taught him. 

"He's a nice feller," Goldshoe said to Hoppy. "So is it time for a new rig, Hop-Hop?" 

"Maybe." She frowned, and then fanned the air with her hoof in a vain effort to wave Goldshoe's malodorous reek away. "It'll be on credit, and I don't want to dig myself too deep. I don't actually need it right now, but I will soon and I—" 

"And you want to get it now so you can start fixing it." Ears splayed sideways, Goldshoe offered up a thoughtful nod to Hoppy. "What if I told you that you could get a new ship for the cost of a used one?" 

"Then I'd tell you that not only have you crawled through shit, but that you're full of shit." 

Striving to be diplomatic, Sundance disguised his suppressed laughter as a cough. 

"No, really." Now, Goldshoe's ears lifted; as they did so, a niblet of corn fell out of the right one, rolled down his neck, and tumbled to the ground. "My brother, he's started fabricating what we like to call a bare bones ship. 'Cause it's bare bones. Literally. We're selling a skeleton that is infinitely customisable to suit your needs. And 'cause my brother is one of those bleatin' enviro-nuts, our bare bones ships are made to run on alcohol… which you just so happen to be damn good at a-makin'." 

"Fine, I'll have a look. But I'd better like what I see. And if you're trying to scam me of all ponies, It'll be the zapper for you. I mean it, Goldshoe. I'll set all your hair on end." 

"I'd scam a lot of ponies, Hop-Hop, but not you. Follow me. They're in the hangar." 


 

What hung from the ceiling is what Sundance imagined a whale skeleton might look like. It was literally the skeletal frame of the ship. No hull. No deck. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just a series of triangles all connected at the corners, with each triangle about a yard or so apart. The ship he was looking at had fifteen such triangles, which had the pointed end down near the floor, and the flat part deckside. This vessel, such as it was, had no engine, no turbine, no boiler, nothing. Just a frame made from gleaming stainless steel. Of particular interest were the lift nacelles, which were solid body steel tubes that ran the length of the frame, and connected to the two top points at the top of the triangle, where the deck should be. 

"What is this junk?" Hoppy demanded. "It's an unfinished ship." 

"Now hold on, Hoppin' Mad," Goldshoe said as he raised his hoof to ward off Hoppy and her zapper. "You can build a deck. That's not hard. The nacelles are sealed and don't constantly leak. Sure, there's no cabins, or a galley, or even a shitter, but those things can be built if they're actually needed. As for the open body, we've actually had customers that kept them bare, and then just secured cargo to the frame itself. It's open design allows for easy access. Sure, you gotta secure stuff, 'cause there's no actual place to store it, but it does offer a few advantages." 

Frowning, she whipped out her foreleg and pointed at the skeletal frame. "This is junk." 

"This is our future, Hoppy." Goldshoe's good natured face contorted into something that was almost angry. "Just 'cause you can't see the potential don't mean it ain't there." 

As was so often the case, Sundance took a risk, and he inserted himself into the conversation. "Uh, Hoppy… the way I see it, this is everything you need and nothing that you don't. For a crafty pony such as yourself, you could finish this off and save a fortune." 

"I dunno about this… hmm." She retreated, and with a tilt of her head, glanced up at the gleaming steel frame. 

"It's not a yacht." Good natured once more, Goldshoe offered up a grateful nod to Sundance. "This is meant to do work. It's not meant to live on, but I suppose somepony could turn it into a nice enough home if they wanted to. A hull isn't hard to make, and with this design it gives you a choice as to what sort of hull you can have. You can do a deck or no deck. The rigid affixed nacelles offer a lot of strong lift and stability. My brother, he's rigged up a system of gyros and valves and control gizmos that automatically level the craft in high winds and send electricity to whatever nacelle is needed at the moment to provide lift to level everything out. Try to get that with an old gasbag airship. You can't." 

"If Hoppy doesn't buy one of these, I might." Sundance then immediately corrected himself with the following: "But not today. No money. But my barony is in need of a means of conveyance. I'm sure that something could be cobbled together." 

"Yer a smart one," Goldshoe said to Sundance. 

"I'm actually a magical moron," was Sundance's reply. 

"Er… my condolences, Mister your Lordship. I was almost drowned as a foal. Doctor told my ma it did me some brain damage, but I ain't noticed any such thing. I seem to do just fine. Just a matter of believing in yourself." 

"Goldshoe, how is your ma?" asked Hoppy. 

"She died about a week ago. Dunglung. Doc says it was this Jersey City air that did her in." 

"I'm sorry, Goldshoe. I really am." A warm sincerity almost oozed out of Hoppy, who took a step closer to Goldshoe but then immediately thought better of it. 

"She ain't a-coughin' no more. Better off. My brother, he's starting to get the cough. I seem to be fine. Don't bother me none at all." 

"I am so glad to keep Wort away from the city." Pensive, her brows furrowed with concern, Hoppy shook her head whilst she pranced in place. 

"We earth ponies don't have much worry about dunglung," Goldshoe said to Hoppy. "Wort'd probably be fine. Unicorns and pegasus ponies, they's softer creatures. Not sturdy and solid like us of earth stock. No offense to the present company." 

"None taken," both Hoppy and Sundance said in unison. 

"If you buy one of our bare bones ships, you get a new propulsion system. Brand new. Not worn in yet. My brother and his partner build 'em. And by partner, I don't just mean business partner, I mean partner, 'cause my brother is queer. Ain't nothing wrong with that. I climb through poop chutes and so does he. We're brothers with a lot in common. But the system is completely new and we sell it with a five year warranty. Which we're right proud of. Ain't nothing else on our lot sold with a warranty. Maybe just a warning. Sold as-is. But our own house brand, we back." 

"Alcohol, you say?" asked Hoppy. 

"Princess Celestia ordered the whole of the navy to convert to alcohol from coal," Goldshoe replied. "And if she says that, then that's the future. 'Sides, the sort of pony interested in our bare bones ship, they's farmers, mostly. We have over a dozen orders already. And it's not hard for a farmer to distill their own burny-water. It's easier for a farmer to get booze than coal. Plus, you don't have to pull apart the whole mess twice a year to de-gunk it. Alcohol burns clean." 

"It does," the unicorn mare replied as she began to rub her chin. 

An earth pony hauling a cart loaded with steel tubing trotted by. 

Looking up at the shiny steel frame, Sundance couldn't help but be entranced by it. He was a pony in need of transport, and even though he knew almost nothing about airships, this seemed ideal. It would get work done. Goods could be hauled to Ponyville, Canterlot, or even here, to Fillydelphia. Well, anywhere really, but without a galley, or cabins, or a toilet, the lack of creature comforts might make long trips unpleasant. But he could see the potential of such a craft, and why it might appeal to farmers. It was practical. 

At last, Hoppy said, "I'll think about it." 

"And I will too," Sundance added. "Though I think I'm sold. But I need to talk to a few ponies and I need to scare up some money." 

Goldshoe nodded, and then his good natured face wizened with shrewd cunning. "Actually, I have a proposal for you. Now, I'll need to run this by my brother, so he don't go off and kill me, but I'll give you both a discount if you can help me out with a little personal matter." 

"Alright, spit it out, Bucklebad." As she adopted a defensive posture, Hoppy tapped her left hind hoof against the smooth concrete floor. 

"You only call me that when you think I'm up to no good." 

"Well, are you?" she demanded. 

"Not at the moment," he replied with his ears pinned back in submission. "Swear to Princess Celestia, I'm on the level. Like I said, my brother and I, we can offer a discount. Can't say how much. But you gotta help me. Well, actually, you gotta help my niece—" 

"Sulky needs help?" Hoppy's demeanour underwent a rapid, almost unsettling change. "Is she alright? If somepony hurt Sulky, I'll drown them in a canal." 

"We call that a Jersey City bath," Goldshoe remarked to nopony in particular. 

"What's wrong with Sulky?" Brows furrowed, body twitching, Hoppy grew antsy-in-pantsy, even though she wore nothing at all except for her saddlebags. 

"Oh, she didn't listen to my sister." He shook his head, and then Goldshoe corrected himself. "Her mama. She didn't listen to her mama. You know that Sulky can't fly on account of that case of feather flu went untreated and she never got vaccinated and my sister, well, my sister had Sulky when she was way too young and—" 

Hoppy stomped her hoof against the floor and shouted, "Just spit it out!" 

"Well, Sulky went and had herself one of her clever ideas, and she acted on it, and—" 

"Out with it, you blue footed booby!" 

"Sulky ended up like her mama. She had a brilliant idea to get pregnant, drop out of school, and get on the dole. Well, my sister never ended up on the dole, but you get the idea. Anyhow, she—" 

"Sulky is pregnant," Hoppy said in a voice full of fury and gravel. 

"Well, she didn't have much in the way of prospects," Goldshoe said in response. "She can't fly, so she can't do no delivery work. She can't hardly read 'cause that duck-luck-whatever that messes with her eyes. Now look… if you can get my niece out of this festering dungheap, I'll make it worth your while. The state social worker, that hardass fella, said that Sulky might end up in a shelter for delinquent fillies, and not 'cause she's trouble, but just 'cause there's not much else that can be done with her. Her ma threw her out of the house. She's living with my brother and I for now, but that social worker guy is real upset 'cause my brother is a butt-bandit. Anyhow, the whole thing is probably going to blow up real soon. If you say no, I'll understand. No hard feelings." 

"Sundance?" Hoppy whirled around with astonishing suddenness. "You gotta do me a solid. I mean, I invested a huge chunk of money into your barony, and I know that I'm already getting my return, but you gotta do me a solid." 

"Uh, of course," he replied without thinking. "This is what I do, right? You want me to take home another stray." 

Upon hearing these words, Hoppy's eyes brimmed with both tears and appreciation. 

Then, slowly, Sundance's brain began to piece things together, and he asked, "Delinquent fillies?" 

"Sulky is twelve—" 

"Actually, Hoppy, she just turned thirteen. I got her a cake. Somepony had to do it. I even bought it off the fresh rack, and not the day old shelf." 

Wings sagging, tail drooping, ears limp against his temples, Sundance allowed it all to sink in. When his brain began to suggest all the things his mother might have to say about this, he immediately cut himself off and then made a valiant effort to think about something else. He didn't want to hear his mother's voice right now. Her downright virulent derision was the last thing he needed right now. 

"Look, I know you can't save everypony, Sundance, but I promise, Granny and I will look after her. Sulky is a sweet filly, I swear. She's just… well, she's—" 

"She's thick of mind. Not terribly bright." 

"Goldshoe, she's your niece!" 

"My damn near 'tarded niece with duck-luck-whatever." 

"That's awful to say!" 

"I'm a bit peeved with her at the moment, but I love her very much. And not in that bad uncle way that'll get me hauled off to prison." He cast his gaze to the floor. "That state social worker fella, he says that she might be an unfit mother on account of how she's learnin' disabled. I'm hoping that he's wrong." 

"I'd help, even without the discount." Sundance puffed out his chest a bit, and tucked his drooping wings against his sides as he took on a bolder posture. 

"Well, that makes you a decent fella." Then, he lunged at Hoppy, and when he was nose to nose with her, he said, "Don't let nothing else happen to her, you got me? I don't ask for much out of life. I'm a simple pony with simple needs. I understand septic systems and fluid dynamics. I don't understand my niece. Don't need to understand her to know that I love her. I'm trustin' you, Hop-Hop. You've been in her shoes." 

"I won't force her to go." For some reason, this felt necessary to say, and Sundance said it. "She has to come along willingly. I am many things, but I am not a foalnapper. Twilight Velvet would kill me. I mean that. Literally. I am downright positive that she and Princess Celestia would take turns killing me if I did something that cast myself in a negative light and did harm to Twilight's plans." He swallowed, his mouth went dry, and the voice of his mother still threatened to echo between his ears. 

"He's a bit uptight," Goldshoe remarked. 

"You have no idea," Hoppy replied. "I still need to go to the bank. And to talk with the guys at the greenhouse supply company. We can sort out this airship business on another day, but I'll take one. Talk with Sulky, and tell her that she's coming along with Aunt Hop-Hop." 

"That means the world, Hop-Hop. I can't thank you enough." 

"We're friends, aren't we?" Her nose crinkled, Hoppy took a step back, but her eyes were filled with warm affection. "Almost family. I've been in Sulky's shoes. I'll get her through this. Sundance has an excellent nurse and midwife." 

"Well, that's one less thing to worry about. I'll tell you what, so I will. I'll go talk with Sulky, and maybe take a shower, and when you come back from the greenhouse place and the bank, we'll go have lunch together. I'm buying." He paused for a brief moment, his eyes moistened, and then a quivering smile parted his lips. "Maybe Sulky won't get dunglung. That'd be nice. Maybe she's young enough to recover and get better." 

"Yeah," Hoppy agreed, "that'd be nice. I think she'll be fine."